


Irish Weddings and Irish Funerals

by anonymous_sibyl



Category: The Black Donnellys
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-07
Updated: 2007-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 04:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_sibyl/pseuds/anonymous_sibyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Kissing too many people, Jenny?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irish Weddings and Irish Funerals

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "last kiss" meme.
> 
> This work is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/). None of the media or characters written about in my fanfiction belong to me and I make no profit from these works.

Irish weddings aren't much different than Irish funerals. Some guy wears a suit he'll never wear again, some woman slaps him across the face for groping under her fancy dress, and the same piper who played Danny Boy at your best friend's funeral plays Amazing Grace while the girl next door walks down the aisle.

She was beautiful that day, Jenny Reilly was, all cream lace and flowers, smiling like she was about to step up that altar into the arms of Jesus himself. The old women whispered about how she deserved happiness and the old men talked about her breasts. Yeah, Jenny was just as beautiful as a bride should be.

All of us were glad when the day came that the law recognized Jenny's husband as dead even without a body ever being found. It freed her up to follow her heart and made it so we never had to tell her a story that nobody wanted to tell. Jenny was special to us, nobody wanted to break her heart. Least of all not after it got so broken years ago. Nobody could bear to crack it more.

I saw her at the reception, putting down her glass of champagne and reaching for a bottle of beer. Her lipstick was smudged and I said so, got a smack for my trouble. "Kissing too many people, Jenny?"

"Yeah," she said, putting a kiss on my cheek for good measure. "It's a happy day."

I said good and I meant it, smiled when she walked across the hall to join her new husband. Like I said, she deserved it, just like I deserved the smack. Anyway, I'd seen what Jenny'd been kissing, so I stole the handkerchief from her Dad's pocket and wiped her lip print off the picture of Tommy Donnelly hanging on the wall.

Like I said, Irish weddings aren't much different from funerals, right down to a pretty woman kissing a dead man one last time.


End file.
